Saturday, 7 May 2016

The dust...(O' dust of hell) scrambled my eyeballsdespite the tough shawl,and I couldn't see her:the market sits twice neverthis week is goneshouldn't time take a jump?

However, she mustn't mind.I am only a stranger amidstwild melons, organic potatoes,rough winds, tireless rains.I am a mere poet alivein dreams of minewriting on her spectaclesand just wanting nothingbut for the market to sittwice a week:I shall watch her smiletwice a week,but the dust...(O' dust of hell)scrambled my eyeballsand I couldn't see her once!

Page Visits

The Moustached Poet-a 'few' pots of poems!

I, The Moustached Poet

I teach at School of Electronics, KIIT University, Odisha, India and work for pleasure as the Editor of Guwahatian- an e-magazine from Guwahati. 'The Moustached Poet' is also a book collection of my 50 poems published by Partridge India and launched worldwide online in over 20+ stores during December, 2014 - January, 2015.
Science + Poetry = Melody!